


Constellations

by missflowerthief



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fake Astrology, M/M, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missflowerthief/pseuds/missflowerthief
Summary: Once upon a time, two lovers watched the stars.
Relationships: Norwin/Orion (Dragalia Lost)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dotpyenji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotpyenji/gifts).



> I had to hold myself back from calling this Stargayzing but just know that's the unofficial title.

“Nothing is more beautiful than the heavenly bodies of the night sky—”

The flourish, the wink, and the roses Orion pulls out from behind his back make the punchline inevitable. Norwin knows him far too well to expect otherwise.

“—except, of course, for you my dear.”

That’s the line; and since no one else is around, he has to punch Orion himself. He decides to go easy on him, because at least he didn't say, "your heavenly body."

“How corny,” Norwin chastises, tapping his fist against the other Sylvan’s arm and accepting the bouquet in one breath. Like the punch, the words carry no real heat. From them, however, an expert in the matters of love would be able to hear exasperated affection.

“ _You’re a fool,_ ” they seemed to imply; and then more softly, “ _b_ _ut you happen to be my fool._ ”

So Orion, embracing his harlequin glory, stares at the way Norwin holds his gift like something precious, even when he receives flowers from him every other day. There’s magic in the way his thumb runs over a waxy petal before he lifts the bouquet higher; how he lets himself be intoxicated by the scent, the mole under his mouth stretching upward in an errant smile; and the violet hair, ribbon-bound and ombre-blue, against a shock of snow white roses—All a portrait that, for lack of skill, Orion wouldn’t be able to paint himself. 

He meant what he said earlier, but to say so would earn him another punch. 

Still preoccupied, it’s Norwin who looks up to point out the first star in the fading daylight. 

“Look. That’s the tip of Zodiark’s Horn.”

The constellation of the famed shadow dragon is the first to appear and soothe the coming darkness.

"Some call it the ‘Sun Reaper,’ or the ‘Herald of the End’—" Norwin explains, tracing a line between the shining tip to the base of the horn that would soon arrive. He takes Orion’s hand in his own, absentmindedly tracing the same pattern along his palm, “—and a few, the ‘Gentle Harbinger.’”

Despite having planned many a date beneath the stars, Orion had never learned much astrology. He knew how to use them as compasses: Polaris to the North, and Elysium the brightest of them all—yet the lore escaped him.

But his lack of knowledge is welcomed tonight; Norwin looks happy to map out each burgeoning light and tell their tale. Orion is unsure if it feels so romantic because they’re bathed in moonlight, or if it’s because his companion is the one speaking. Surely the only person who could match his charm doing the same is himself.

“And what of that shining beauty?” Orion asks when the night falls upon them completely. He refers to a small star flickering in the West, nearly invisible among the brighter lights around it. Unlike the conspicuous white stars, this one is only distinct by its pale pink glow.

Norwin grimaces at the fact that he’s flirting with the sky. “...Did you know that one was part of Andromeda?”

Orion shakes his head, though instinct—his damsel radar, though he was told to never use that term again—did tell him it would be familiar.

(Somewhere in the Halidom, the dragon feels a chill.)

“Well, Andromeda is known as the ‘Martyr’s Constellation.’” Both of them knew the story of this one: The dragon who sacrificed herself to bear the sins of humankind. The real thing was different from the legend, yet still carried with her an unspeakable sadness.

“The six stars in the middle represent her torso and arms, the three below are the tail, and the two up there are the horns,” Norwin continues, “but this one didn’t fit in the silhouette or the color, so they named it _Andromedus Sperarus_ …‘The Hope of Andromeda.’” 

His golden eyes search it blankly, as if looking past the feeble light and into the endless universe.

“Is that... not a happy title?”

Norwin puts on a wry smile—a derisive one even, as he replies, “they named it that because it’s so faint. Like it’s not even there.”

A hope doomed to waver until the end.

Watching his face fall, Orion squeezes his hand tightly and yells. 

“But think of it this way!”

The energy of the voice is unexpected, and so is the way Orion twirls him, catching him with his chest. Through his cloak, he feels the red-hot heartbeat, and his back grows warmer after each pulse. 

“Think of it this way,” Orion says again, whispering into his ears like it’s a secret. “That hope exists at all means the chance for change isn’t zero.”

Thrown off balance, Norwin loses sight of _Sperarus_ , but manages to find it once more when the world stops spinning.

A faint star, but one that is always there. 

“My, how profound of you.” He whispers back teasingly, his gloom replaced by mirth thanks to the silly man kissing the back of his head. Perhaps Orion was right—that even the faintest of lights are still beacons, and that hope in the smallest fraction is still hope.

Though the history of a star is often recounted in tragedy, it is because and not in spite of Orion’s belief in destiny that he can wrest power from it. Even if an outcome were foretold the same way that stories found their ways to endings, it would be the struggle before it—the love that gives birth to courage—that mattered the most.

And, after all, is it not the ultimate romance to deny a “destiny” that does not bring happiness? Orion would blame not the stars for the whims of fate (for they too fear the end); he would only hold on unyieldingly to what made them shine brighter each night. 

Though if he held on any tighter he’d crush Norwin—his handsomely defined muscles weren’t just for show. 

After some moments of silent swaying, each thinking of the other in vibrant shades, Norwin’s ears begin to twitch. They hit Orion’s face, and he, wrapped between two clingy arms, points to another patch of sky.

“This is the one I wanted to show you,” he says excitedly, having waited for the whole constellation to appear. And shyly, though his version of shy is subtle, he adds, “it’s my favorite.”

First Orion sneezes from the fur tickling his nose, then he asks, “Oh? Why is that?”

As he sniffles, he’s unsure of what he’s looking at, though that’s true for most constellations. This one is a cluster of some twenty stars he can’t make heads or tails of... a dragon’s foot, or an hourglass of falling sand, perhaps?

“This one is called the ‘Hunter’s Constellation,’” Norwin says, laughing at the way he tries to sound cool but comes off as ailing. “But most people know it as Orion.”

The sweetness of that confession overwhelms him. Buries him, really. A bit of water fills his eyes, and he doesn’t even have enough in him to give a flirty reply like usual.

Feeling a tremble behind him, Norwin continues speaking. With his usual melancholy washed away by the gentle moon and himself anchored by gentle arms, the sound of breathing, their synchronizing heartbeats (both are far too fast), he feels…light, might be it. Or free? He’d say loved, but that felt too simple. How silly it was, for an author to be unable to find a single word, and still spin entire tales.

“Do you want to hear his story?” he settles for.

“Is it a tragic one?” 

“Yes, very. I won’t spoil it but he definitely deserved it.”

Orion laughs at that. His dopplegänger must’ve been a real stand up guy. 

“Tell me,” he replies, not needing the promise of a happy ending. He only needed now.

And so, the two lovers watched the stars.

“Once upon a time…”

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/flowerthief_art) meow


End file.
